Nine Lives
by Pir8grl
Summary: Another adventure with my favorite time traveling cat.


_**Part seven of The Cat and the Canary**_

* * *

"What's wrong, Cat?" Snart asked, watching Maharib limping across the floor.

Maharib shot him a dirty look and settled into his bed.

Snart frowned. The old grey cat didn't generally use his bed - not when Sara's bunk was available. He walked over to the cat bed and knelt down, reaching out his hand. Maharib hissed at him and hopped back out of the bed, limping away.

"Come here, Cat. Sara will skin me if there's something wrong with you." He reached out and caught the cat, tucking him firmly under his arm. "Gideon, I'm on my way to the medbay with Maharib."

"Acknowledged, Mr. Snart."

"Hey, whatsa matter with my little buddy?" Mick asked, trailing along after Snart.

"He's walking funny. I'm taking him medbay."

"Whatever it is, better get it fixed before Blondie catches you."

"Yeah, thanks. I never would have thought of that - _**hold still**_ , Cat."

* * *

"The problem appears to be a claw, which has grown around and become embedded in the cat's paw," Gideon recited.

"So fix it," Snart replied.

"I regret that I am unable to do so," Gideon reported - in a voice that didn't sound the least bit regretful. "Someone will need to hold him and clip the claw. Clipping the rest of his claws would be advisable."

"Also life threatening," Snart muttered.

"Ya gotta tell Sara," Mick said. "She's the only one who can hold him fer something like that."

"How did this happen, Gideon?" Snart asked.

"There is no suitable material for Maharib to exercise his claws on."

"He exercises them on me!"

"I did say suitable, Mr. Snart."

"So, you're sayin' the little guy needs a cat tree?" Mick asked.

"Yes, Mr. Rory. That would be appropriate."

"Cool!" The big man reached over to scratch the cat's ears, then departed, grinning.

"Great. He's gonna get arrested for knocking over a pet store," Snart groaned. "Find Sara, would you?"

"Of course, Mr. Snart."

* * *

"How did this happen, Gideon?" Sara asked remorsefully, as she cuddled her pet.

Maharib had been content to let Snart hold him while Sara wielded the claw snippers.

"There is no wood or other material suitable for a cat to exercise his claws in areas where your pet is normally allowed."

"So, you're saying we should turn him loose in Rip's study?" Snart drawled, rather gleefully.

Sara smacked him in the arm. "She's saying he needs a cat tree or scratching post."

"I like my idea better, but Mick's already on it."

"Please tell me we don't have to go bail him out of jail for robbing a pet shop," Sara said fervently.

"On the contrary, Miss Lance, Mr. Rory, Mr. Jackson, and Dr. Palmer are all currently in your quarters, constructing something."

Sara groaned and scrambled to her feet.

* * *

The sound of raised voices carried down the corridor. Sara flashed a concerned glance at Snart as they neared her room.

"It's perfect!" Ray announced enthusiastically.

"Uh, Ray…don't you think it's a little -" Jax faltered.

"Huge?" Mick suggested.

They were so busy arguing that they didn't hear the crook and assassin, who entered with their usual silent grace. At least, not until Maharib launched himself out of Sara's arms to investigate the new…construction.

It took up most of the wall. It had ladders, and ramps, and ropes, and sleeping nooks, and scratching surfaces, and dangling toys. Ray looked proud enough to burst.

"You do realize she's only got one cat, right?" Snart asked, surveying the monstrosity with cool eyes.

"But look! It's got lots of things he can scratch his claws - achoo! - on, so he doesn't hurt his paws again. And all these things to play with when Sara's off the ship," Ray gushed.

Sara didn't have the heart to mention the fact that she needed to occupy the room as well, especially not when Ray's eyes were beginning to swell shut, and Maharib was so obviously entranced with his new possession.

She stepped up and planted a kiss on the inventor's cheek. "Thanks, boys."

"Any time, Sara," Jax said easily, as he gathered up tools and scraps.

"I still say we coulda just stolen one," Mick grumbled.


End file.
